


In Sickness and in Health

by arthurmorgan-s-heart (Silverblind)



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Other, Romance, Spoilers, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-25 10:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16659295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverblind/pseuds/arthurmorgan-s-heart
Summary: *SPOILERS*SPOILERS* Headcanons for if Reader is sick instead of Arthur





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fill from my tumblr blog. Uploaded here for convenience - find me on tumblr - arthurmorgan-s-heart
> 
> Original request text: "I'm in need for more heavy angst so... what if s/o is the one who got TB? I'd love to see Arthur getting more protective and all."

  * You try to dismiss it at the start
  * It’s nothing, really, just a rattle in your lungs that is more annoying than anything
  * But soon you’re coughing loudly, and often
  * Arthur is concerned - you brush his worries aside, even though you cough yourself - and him - awake almost every night. He always rubs your back until it subsides
  * There is fever as well now, and you shiver uncontrollably. Nothing seems to be able to warm you
  * You reassure everyone - “It’s just a bad cold”
  * Until it isn’t
  * One day, after a particularly painful fit of coughing, your hand comes away bloody
  * Arthur takes you to the doctor immediately, ignoring your protests
  * Seeing the usually rather stoic man so concerned has you starting to worry, too
  * They try to force him to wait outside as the doctor examines you, but it would take an army to pry him away from you now
  * The doctor’s examination is quick - he seems to find what he’s looking for almost immediately
  * There’s something in his eyes when he looks at you. Sadness? Pity? You feel your heartbeat quicken
  * “You have Tuberculosis. I’m sorry.”
  * You feel your breath - or what little you have left - leave you. Your vision blurs with tears
  * Arthur is frozen at your side, his hand on your shoulder, squeezing hard
  * “The illness can be staved off for a while, in a drier climate,” the doctor says. You barely register his words. “Plenty of rest, as well.”
  * Arthur supports your weight as you walk out of the doctor’s office together. You feel as if all your strength - what’s left of it - has left you
  * He whispers empty words of comfort as he helps you onto your horse - “It’ll be okay, we’ll be alright, don’t worry.” - and you’re not sure if he’s trying to reassure you, or himself
  * You ride back to Clemens Point in a silence only occasionally broken by your coughing
  * You don’t know if you’re scared, angry, or sad - or everything all at once
  * Arthur seems lost in his own thoughts, but right before you ride into camp, he reaches out to take your hand and give it a gentle squeeze -  _it’ll be alright_ (it won’t. Not this time)
  * You get to camp at sunset, and the look on your faces must be enough to tell the others all they need to know - no one approaches you
  * Dutch is the first to do so. He looks at you - there is pity in his eyes already (you almost hate him for it) - and then at Arthur: “I take it that you don’t have good news?”
  * Arthur looks to you before answering, silently asking your permission - you nod, but you don’t stay. You can’t bear to have them look at you like the doctor did
  * You sit by the lake, staring over the water as news spread through the camp quickly - it always does. No one disturbs you, and you are grateful to them for that
  * Your thoughts are a whirlwind - you can barely focus on anything
  * Once night has fallen, you hear someone finally approaching
  * It’s Mary Beth, with a bowl of stew
  * You take it with a nod of thanks, but you barely look at her
  * She hovers near you for a moment, and you almost want to snap at her, but she leaves before your patience runs out - you feel guilt flitting through you. It’s not their fault
  * You don’t know how long you sit there - the stew goes cold in its bowl, almost untouched, and the night grows dark until you can barely see your own hands. You can feel your own breath rattling through your chest, constricting in your lungs
  * You hear footsteps behind you - footsteps you know well. The light of a lantern begins to creep upon you. Arthur’s hand is warm when he puts it on your shoulder. You want more than anything to bury your face in his chest and  _scream_  - but as he sits next to you, all you can manage is a broken sob as he gathers you against him
  * He strokes your hair and holds you close - you want to apologise, you want to tell him you love him, but you choke on the words, prompting more coughing. His hand is on your back immediately, rubbing soothing, familiar circles
  * He leans away after a while, and he stands up when you look at him
  * “Come on,” he says softly. He takes your hand and helps you up. His hand reaches for your cheek when you face him, wiping away tears you didn’t even know you were crying
  * You let him lead you back towards the camp - you are grateful to see that it’s late enough that almost everyone is asleep
  * “Arthur.” Your voice cracks from hours of disuse. “Arthur, what am I gonna do?”
  * He doesn’t say anything as he sets his lantern down and sits you on the bed you share, kneeling in front of you. He takes both of your hands in his and looks down at your interlocked fingers
  * “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I’ll be with you.”
  * You see him pull something from his pocket. Your heart skips a beat
  * “If you’ll have me,” he says, meeting your gaze and showing you a golden ring set with a green stone
  * “But I’m dying.” The words blurt from your mouth, unbidden. You see a veil of sadness pass over him, but he is still smiling
  * “All I know is I wanna be with you,” he says quietly. Rarely have you seen him so open, so vulnerable, even in all your time together.You feel fresh tears well in your eyes, but you blink them away. “Don’t matter for how long - just that we’re together.”
  * You free your hands from his grip to cradle his face, your thumbs smoothing over his cheekbones. The answer is easy. For the first time in days, you feel yourself smile
  * “Yes. Yes, I will.”




	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't think I'd be continuing this, but someone requested a part 2 on tumblr, so here we are.

  * You’re married in camp, by Reverend Swanson, sober for the occasion
  * There is little ceremony, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. All that matters is that Arthur is there, next to you, and so are all the people you’ve grown to call family
  * The kiss Arthur presses to your lips at Swanson’s prompting is soft and tender, almost shy - that makes you smile, despite everything
  * The day is gorgeous, the weather warm - but despite the sun and the smiles, there is an underlying sadness that everyone can’t quite shake
  * That doesn’t prevent anyone from celebrating - far from it, all of them seem intent on losing themselves and forgetting, if only for a few hours, the fate that awaits you sooner than anyone would like
  * You’re content to sit back and watch them all - you don’t have the energy to join in most of the festivities, but that’s alright
  * You’re still not quite at peace with your situation, but you suppose that doesn’t really matter - it won’t prevent the sickness from taking you. Nothing will
  * Arthur hardly leaves your side all evening, despite your insistence that he goes and enjoys himself - “I’m fine right here,” he says, holding your hand as he sits next to you
  * Seeing the camp so alive, you could almost believe that nothing has changed - but each of your own shuddering breaths reminds you that no, nothing will ever be the same 
  * The party starts to die down in the early hours of the morning; Arthur lifts you up easily, intent on carrying you to bed. It draws a startled laugh from you - though it quickly turns into another coughing fit. He waits until it subsides before making his way toward his tent
  * There are cheers and laughs as he carries you across camp - you wave at everyone with a smile, ignoring the taste of blood in your mouth
  * Arthur puts you down once inside the tent. Both of you know you’re too sick to do much of anything
  * “I’m sorry,” you whisper, staring at your feet.
  * “What for?” he asks. You can hear the surprise in his voice
  * “That I can’t - “ you start, but his hand on your cheek cuts you off. He lifts your head so that you’re looking at him.
  * “I don’t care about that,” he says quietly. His thumb brushes across your cheek, from the corner of your lips to your jaw. “Just bein’ together’s enough for me.”
  * He draws you into his arms, and you cling to him as tight as you can
  * Time crawls by as you stand there, simply holding each other - you close your eyes and pray that it never ends
  * “I don’t know how long I have left,” you say eventually -  _not long_ , something inside you whispers, and somehow you know it’s telling the truth. “But I’m glad you’re with me.”
  * You feel him smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss there. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else. I love you.”
  * You squeeze your eyes shut as you muster the strength to answer - “I love you too.” You bury your face in his shoulder and hope he doesn’t feel the tears soaking his shirt




End file.
